Harry's Secret
by StarPotterCriss
Summary: Delores Umbridge finds a set of books about our favourite hero. What happens when she decides to read them in front of not only Hogwarts but the entire Wizarding World as well? And what is this secret that Harry has been hiding? Could it have something to do with a necklace that he has had since was little? Read to find out. I should warn you that I'm a very slow updater.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

Delores Umbridge was frustrated. Very frustrated actually. Nothing she did stopped that Potter boy from spreading lies about You-Know-Who. Not even stopping him from playing his favourite sport, Quidditch which is what she did last Saturday.

Umbitch, as the students had nicknamed her, stomped back up to her office after another lesson with the annoying boy. She was pacing back and forth behind her desk trying to think of a new plan when there was a bright flash and a stack of books appeared on her desk. Looking closer she realised there were seven books now sitting in front of her and they were all about Harry Potter. This was perfect!

They were titled _Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone_,_ Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets_,_ Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban_,_ Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire_,_ Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix_,_ Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince and Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows._

Finally she would be able to everyone that the boy was lying! This needed some thought.

Umbitch grabbed a handful of Floo Powder and after throwing it into the fire place, called out 'Ministry of Magic, Minister of Magic's Office'.

"Ahh Delores, what can I do for you?" asked the Minister, Cornelius Fudge.

"Minister I have come across some very interesting books and have a great idea for them," replied Umbitch with a girlish giggle. "You see..."

The Next Morning (Saturday, 10:00)

"ALL STAFF AND STUDENTS REPORT TO THE GREAT HALL IMMEDIATELY!"

"Oh great, what could Toadface possibly want now?" groaned Harry.

"Come on. Let's go see," replied Hermione.

The trio followed the rest of the Gryffindor Tower down to the Great Hall where the rest of the houses were also gathering. Umbridge was sitting at the head table with a sickly sweet smile on her face which was the first sign that something was going on. The second was the fact that the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge himself, was beside her along with Madame Bones and his ever faithful assistant Percy Weasley. All the Weasleys scowled when they saw him. The third and final sign that something was going on was the seven books sitting in front of Umbridge on the table.

Once everyone was settled down, Umbitch stood up and began to speak. "Hem Hem! Lessons are cancelled for the next week."

As soon as these words left her mouth whispers spread across the tables. Most were cheering, some were moaning in despair (*Cough*Hermione*Cough*) but one thing was certain. They were all wondering why they were getting an extra week off classes.

"HEM HEM!" coughed Umbridge. "Instead we shall be reading seven books about one of our very own students. One for each year they are at school. This student is Harry Potter and the books are in his point of view."

"You can't do that!" Harry shouted at her standing as he did so.

"Actually Mr Potter, I can. The Minister has already approved the idea," replied Umbridge in her sickly sweet voice that fooled no one. "It is perfectly legal. Now as I was saying, we shall be reading these books to not only everyone here but also anyone who is listening to the Wizarding Wireless over the next week. I can assure you that many people will be listening as it was advertised in the Daily Prophet this morning. Now any questions?"

"Would you mind if I invited a couple of people to come and listen to the reading here, Delores? I am sure that Harry would like some extra support," asked Dumbledore.

"Of course Dumbledore," replied Umbridge. "Anyone else? No? Good. We shall start in ten minutes."

Dumbledore left the hall to go Floo some people and everyone started chatting at once. Harry groaned and started banging his head on the table over and over again causing the around him to back away slowly.

Eventually Dumbledore returned with the rest of the Weasleys apart from Bill and Charlie who were still in Egypt and Romania respectively, Nymphadora Tonks, Mad-Eye Moody and Remus Lupin who had a scruffy dog by his side.

As soon as the dog entered the hall and saw Harry it had bounded over to him, pounced on him knocking him onto the floor and proceeded to lick his face and bark at him.

"Snuffles!" laughed Harry, while he tried and failed to push the dog off of himself. It took the combined efforts of Harry, Ron and Hermione to get Snuffles off of Harry. By that time the Weasleys, Tonks and Lupin had crossed the hall after Snuffles and sat down around Harry and his friends and Dumbledore and Mad-Eye Moody had made their way up to the staff table.

Harry scowled at Remus who was laughing at him as he retook his seat. Snuffles jumped up onto his lap and settled down.

"Nice dog, Harry!" called Dean Thomas, one of Harry's dorm mates.

"Thanks, Dean. This is Snuffles," replied Harry.

"Hem Hem! Now that we are all here let's get started," said Umbridge. "The first book is called _Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone_."

And so with everyone in the Wizarding World listening they started reading about Harry Potter's life.

Chapter One – The Boy Who Lived

"**CHAPTER ONE THE BOY WHO LIVED**," read Umbridge.

**Mr. And Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much.**

"You're very welcome!" cried the twins.

**They were the last people you'd expect to be involved in anything strange or mysterious, because they just didn't hold with such nonsense.**

"Of course not!" exclaimed the twins again, looking scandalized.

**Mr. Dursley was the director of a firm called Grunnings, which made drills.**

"What's a drill?" asked a pureblood Ravenclaw.

Hermione was about to reply but Ron slapped his hand over her mouth and said, "Why don't you just write it down and you can ask Hermione or one of the Professors later?"

The Ravenclaw nodded so Ron removed his hand, gave Hermione an apologetic look and motioned to Umbridge to continue reading.

**He was a big, beefy man with hardly any neck, although he did have a very large moustache.**

"Well doesn't he sound handsome," joked Ginny Weasley.

**Mrs. Dursley was thin and blonde and had nearly twice the usual amount of neck, which came in very useful as she spent so much of her time craning over garden fences, spying on the neighbours. **

"You never change Tuney," muttered Snape so low that no one heard him.

**The Dursleys had a small son called Dudley and in their opinion there was no finer boy anywhere. **

Harry snorted at this. "Yeah, and I'm the Queen of England."

**The Dursleys had everything they wanted, but they also had a secret, and their greatest fear was that somebody would discover it. **

"What's the secret?" an excited Colin Creevey asked while jumping up and down on his seat.

**They didn't think they could bear it if anyone found out about the Potters. **

"What's wrong with the Potters?" asked Ron. "I mean apart from the fact that they're all scrawny gits."

"Hey!"

**Mrs. Potter was Mrs. Dursley's sister, but they hadn't met for several years; in fact, Mrs. Dursley pretended she didn't have a sister, because her sister and her good-for-nothing husband were as unDursleyish as it was possible to be.**

"That's horrible!" said Hermione.

**The Dursleys shuddered to think what the neighbours would say if the Potters arrived in the street.**

"Hello. You must be the Potters!" said Fred, or was it George, in a snooty voice with his nose in the sir.

**The Dursleys knew that the Potters had a small son, too, but they had never even seen him. This boy was another good reason for keeping the Potters away; they didn't want Dudley mixing with a child like that.**

"A child like what?" asked Mrs Weasley angrily. No one answered her.

** When Mr. And Mrs. Dursley woke up on the dull, gray Tuesday our story starts, there was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country. Mr. Dursley hummed as he picked out his most boring tie for work,**

"'His most boring tie'? Why would he pick out his most boring tie?" asked Neville.

"Because he's a boring person, Neville," answered Harry.

** and Mrs. Dursley gossiped away happily as she wrestled a screaming Dudley into his high chair. None of them noticed a large, tawny owl flutter past the window. At half past eight, Mr. Dursley picked up his briefcase, pecked Mrs. Dursley on the cheek, and tried to kiss Dudley good-bye but missed, because Dudley was now having a tantrum and throwing his cereal at the walls.**

"What a horrible child!" said Mrs Weasley.

"Imagine what mum would have done to us if we had done that," commented George, or was it Fred, to the rest of the Weasleys. They all shivered as one.

**"Little tyke," chortled Mr. Dursley as he left the house.**

"Don't encourage him!" shouted Ginny.

**He got into his car and backed out of number four's drive. It was on the corner of the street that he noticed the first sign of something peculiar – a cat reading a map.**

"Minnie!" shouted the twins and surprisingly Remus.

"Remus, _please_ tell me that you didn't tell them about you and your friends nickname for me when you were at school," said Professor McGonagall tiredly.

"Umm ... you see ... Sorry?" stuttered Remus under McGonagall's glare.

Harry laughed at Remus and Snuffles let out a bark that sounded like laughter. Remus, ever the mature one, turned round and stuck his tongue out at them causing them to laugh harder.

**For a second, Mr. Dursley didn't realize what he had seen then he jerked his head around to look again. There was a tabby cat standing on the corner of Privet Drive, but there wasn't a map in sight. What could he have been thinking of?**

"Nothing as usual," said Harry.

**It must have been a trick of the light. Mr. Dursley blinked and stared at the cat. It stared back. As Mr. Dursley drove around the corner and up the road, he watched the cat in his mirror. It was now reading the sign that said Privet Drive – no, looking at the sign; cats couldn't read maps or signs.**

"Ah hah!" said the twins, with a triumphant air around them. "We have found out your weakness, Professor! You can't read maps or signs!"

"Be quiet, Messer's Weasley."

** gave himself a little shake and put the cat out of his mind. As he drove toward town he thought of nothing except a large order of drills he was hoping to get that day. But on the edge of town, drills were driven out of his mind by something else. As he sat in the usual morning traffic jam, he couldn't help noticing that there seemed to be a lot of strangely dressed people about. People in cloaks.**

"What's wrong with cloaks?" asked Malfoy indignantly.

"Muggles don't wear cloaks," answered Hermione.

"Stupid Muggles," muttered Malfoy.

**Mr. Dursley couldn't bear people who dressed in funny clothes - the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel and his eyes fell on a huddle of these weirdos standing quite close by. They were whispering excitedly together. Mr. Dursley was enraged to see that a couple of them weren't young at all; why, that man had to be older than he was, and wearing an emerald-green cloak! The nerve of him! **

"The nerve of him!" repeated the Weasley twins.

**But then it struck Mr. Dursley that this was probably some silly stunt - these people were obviously collecting for something... Yes, that would be it.**

"Is he really that dumb?" Ginny asked Harry.

"Sadly, yes," Harry answered solemnly.

**The traffic moved on and a few minutes later, Mr. Dursley arrived in the Grunnings parking lot, his mind back on drills. Mr. Dursley always sat with his back to the window in his office on the ninth floor. If he hadn't, he might have found it harder to concentrate on drills that morning. He didn't see the owls swooping past in broad daylight, though people down in the street did; they pointed and gazed open mouthed as owl after owl sped overhead. Most of them had never seen an owl even at night time.**

"Huh?" spread throughout the hall, mostly with the purebloods.

"Muggles don't use owls to deliver post. They pay other Muggles who sort through the post and deliver it," answered Hermione.

**Mr. Dursley, however, had a perfectly normal, owl-free morning. He yelled at five different people. He made several important telephone calls and shouted a bit more. **

"Isn't he just charming," said a disgusted Katie Bell.

**He was in a very good mood until lunchtime, when he thought he'd stretch his legs and walk across the road**

"What!" Harry shouted, falling off his chair from the shock and bringing Snuffles with him.

**to buy himself a bun from the bakery. **

"Oh doesn't matter."

**He'd forgotten all about the people in cloaks until he passed a group of them next to the baker's. He eyed them angrily as he passed. He didn't know why, but they made him uneasy. This bunch was whispering excitedly, too, and he couldn't see a single collecting tin. It was on his way back past them, clutching a large doughnut in a bag, that he caught a few words of what they were saying.**

**"The Potters, that's right, that's what I heard -"  
"- Yes, their son, Harry"  
Mr. Dursley stopped dead. **

"Sadly, they didn't mean that literally," sighed Harry.

**Fear flooded him. He looked back at the whisperers as if he wanted to say something to them, but thought better of it. He dashed back across the road,**

"He can dash?" asked Harry, his eyes wide.

**hurried up to his office, snapped at his secretary not to disturb him, seized his telephone, and had almost finished dialling his home number when he changed his mind. He put the receiver back down and stroked his moustache, thinking... No, he was being stupid. **

"Good. Acceptance is the first step to recovery," said Ginny. Everyone laughed.

**Potter wasn't such an unusual name. He was sure there were lots of people called Potter who had a son called Harry. Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure his nephew was called Harry. **

"He didn't know your name?" asked Hermione.

"Still doesn't," shrugged Harry.

**He'd never even seen the boy. It might have been Harvey. Or Harold.**

Harry shuddered and made a face. "Eugh, imagine. Harvey Potter. Harold Potter."

"Actually, I think that your name is really Hadrian but everyone calls you Harry. You know, like a nickname," commented Remus.

"We are so calling you Hadrian from now on!" shouted the twins.

'Hadrian' glared at Remus.

** There was no point in worrying Mrs. Dursley; she always got so upset at any mention of her sister. He didn't blame her – if he'd had a sister like that... **

"Yeah, but you've got Marge as a sister so you can't really talk, can you?" snorted Harry.

"Is that the one you-" Ron didn't get much further as Harry clapped his hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, but don't ruin it for everyone else," he said.

**But all the same, those people in cloaks... He found it a lot harder to concentrate on drills that afternoon and when he left the building at five o'clock, he was still so worried that he walked straight into someone just outside the door.**

"I do hope he attends his funeral. It is only right seeing as he killed him," Ginny said solemnly.

Everyone laughed at this. Even the teachers chuckled a little.

**"Sorry," he grunted,**

"He knows that word?!" questioned Neville with wide eyes.

The faces around the hall mirrored his shock.

**as the tiny old man stumbled and almost fell. It was a few seconds before Mr. Dursley realized that the man was wearing a violet cloak. He didn't seem at all upset at being almost knocked to the ground. On the contrary, his face split into a wide smile and he said in a squeaky voice that made passersby stare, "Don't be sorry, my dear sir, for nothing could upset me today! Rejoice, for You-Know-Who has gone at last! Even Muggles like yourself should be celebrating, this happy, happy day!"**

"They should have been more careful!" exclaimed Professor McGonagall.

**And the old man hugged Mr. Dursley around the middle and walked off. **

"His arms fit?" asked Colin.

**Mr. Dursley stood rooted to the spot. He had been hugged by a complete stranger. He also thought he had been called a Muggle, whatever that was. He was rattled. He hurried to his car and set off for home, hoping he was imagining things, which he had never hoped before, because he didn't approve of imagination. **

The Weasley twins gasped and clutched their chests with wide eyes as if someone had just insulted them. Which to them someone just did.

**As he pulled into the driveway of number four, the first thing he saw – and it didn't improve his mood – was the tabby cat he'd spotted that morning. It was now sitting on his garden wall. He was sure it was the same one; it had the same markings around its eyes. "Shoo!" said Mr. Dursley loudly. The cat didn't move. It just gave him a stern look. **

"Defiantly Minnie," nodded the twins.

"Weasleys!" warned Professor McGonagall.

**Was this normal cat behaviour? Mr. Dursley wondered. Trying to pull himself together, he let himself into the house. He was still determined not to mention anything to his wife. Mrs. Dursley had had a nice, normal day. She told him over dinner all about Mrs. Next Door's problems with her daughter and how Dudley had learned a new word ("Won't!").**

"Charming," said a disgusted Angelina Johnson.

**Mr. Dursley tried to act normally. When Dudley had been put to bed, he went into the living room in time to catch the last report on the evening news: "And finally, bird-watchers everywhere have reported that the nation's owls have been behaving very unusually today. Although owls normally hunt at night and are hardly ever seen in daylight, there have been hundreds of sightings of these birds flying in every direction since sunrise. Experts are unable to explain why the owls have suddenly changed their sleeping pattern." The newscaster allowed himself a grin. "Most mysterious. And now, over to Jim McGuffin with the weather. Going to be any more showers of owls tonight, Jim?" "Well, Ted,"**

"Hey, Tonks, is that your dad?" asked Harry.

"You know, I think it is," replied Tonks, thoughtfully.

**said the weatherman, "I don't know about that, but it's not only the owls that have been acting oddly today. Viewers as far apart as Kent, Yorkshire, and Dundee have been phoning in to tell me that instead of the rain I promised yesterday, they've had a downpour of shooting stars! Perhaps people have been celebrating Bonfire Night early – it's not until next week, folks! But I can promise a wet night tonight." Mr. Dursley sat frozen in his armchair. Shooting stars all over Britain? Owls flying by daylight? Mysterious people in cloaks all over the place? And a whisper, a whisper about the Potters... **

"Well it must be obvious if this idiot can figure it out," said Seamus Finnegan.

**Mrs. Dursley came into the living room carrying two cups of tea. It was no good. He'd have to say something to her. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er – Petunia, dear – you haven't heard from your sister lately, have you?" As he had expected, Mrs. Dursley looked shocked and angry. After all, they normally pretended she didn't have a sister.**

"That's awful," said Hermione.

**"No," she said sharply. "Why?" "Funny stuff on the news," Mr. Dursley mumbled. "Owls... Shooting stars... And there were a lot of funny-looking people in town today..." "So?" snapped Mrs. Dursley. "Well, I just thought... Maybe... It was something to do with... You know... Her crowd." **

"Her crowd!" echoed indignantly throughout the hall.

**Mrs. Dursley sipped her tea through pursed lips. Mr. Dursley wondered whether he dared tell her he'd heard the name 'Potter'. He decided he didn't dare. Instead he said, as casually as he could, "Their son – he'd be about Dudley's age now, wouldn't he?" "I suppose so," said Mrs. Dursley stiffly. "What's his name again? Howard, isn't it?" "Harry. Nasty, common name, if you ask me." **

"I think it's a lovely name," said Ginny before realising what she said and blushing horribly.

**"Oh, yes," said Mr. Dursley, his heart sinking horribly. "Yes, I quite agree." He didn't say another word on the subject as they went upstairs to bed. While Mrs. Dursley was in the bathroom, Mr. Dursley crept to the bedroom window and peered down into the front garden. The cat was still there. **

"Still, Professor?" asked Remus, mirth evident in his voice.

**It was staring down Privet Drive as though it were waiting for something. Was he imagining things? Could all this have anything to do with the Potters? If it did ... If it got out that they were related to a pair of – well, he didn't think he could bear it. The Dursleys got into bed. Mrs. Dursley fell asleep quickly but Mr. Dursley lay awake, turning it all over in his mind. His last, comforting thought before he fell asleep was that even if the Potters were involved, there was no reason for them to come near him and Mrs. Dursley. The Potters knew very well what he and Petunia thought about them and their kind ... He couldn't see how he and Petunia could get mixed up in anything that might be going on – he yawned and turned over – it couldn't affect them ... How very wrong he was. **

"Sadly," sighed Harry.

**Mr. Dursley might have been drifting into an uneasy sleep, but the cat on the wall outside was showing no sign of sleepiness. It was sitting as still as a statue, its eyes fixed unblinkingly on the far corner of Privet Drive. It didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed on the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all. A man appeared on the corner the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. **

"Like magic!" stage-whispered the twins in fake awe.

**The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever been seen on Privet Drive. He was tall, thin, and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright, and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice.**

"Dumbledore!" cried the students.

**This man's name was Albus Dumbledore.**

"We just said that. Sheesh, listen more," said the twins.

**Albus Dumbledore didn't seem to realize that he had just arrived in a street where everything from his name to his boots was unwelcome. **

Dumbledore looked surprised at that. "I was unwelcome there?"

"Don't worry Professor. You wouldn't want to be welcome there," reassured Harry.

**He was busy rummaging in his cloak, looking for something. But he did seem to realize he was being watched, because he looked up suddenly at the cat, which was still staring at him from the other end of the street. For some reason, the sight of the cat seemed to amuse him. He chuckled and muttered, "I should have known." He found what he was looking for in his inside pocket. It seemed to be a silver cigarette lighter. **

"No sir! Smoking is bad for you!" cried the twins.

Lee Jordan nodded. "Lung Cancer, Professor D. Lung Cancer."

**He flicked it open, held it up in the air, and clicked it. The nearest street lamp went out with a little pop. **

"Cool sir!" exclaimed Dennis Creevey.

**He clicked it again - the next lamp flickered into darkness. Twelve times he clicked the Put-Outer, until the only lights left on the whole street were two tiny pinpricks in the distance, which were the eyes of the cat watching him. If anyone looked out of their window now, even beady-eyed Mrs. Dursley, they wouldn't be able to see anything that was happening down on the pavement. Dumbledore slipped the Put-Outer back inside his cloak and set off down the street toward number four, where he sat down on the wall next to the cat. He didn't look at it, but after a moment he spoke to it. "Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." **

"I told you it was Minnie!" shouted the twins with Remus nodding along with them.

**He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled. "How did you know it was me?" she asked.  
"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly."  
"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day," said Professor McGonagall.  
"All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here."**

"Did you not apparate sir?" asked Ron.

"I walked most of the way then apparated," explained Dumbledore.

**Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating, all right," she said impatiently. "You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news." She jerked her head back at the Dursleys' dark living-room window. "I heard it. Flocks of owls... Shooting stars... Well, they're not completely stupid. They were bound to notice something. Shooting stars down in Kent – I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle.**

"I like Dedalus," said Remus. The dog barked in what was obviously agreement.

**He never had much sense."  
"You can't blame them," said Dumbledore gently. "We've had precious little to celebrate for eleven years." **

"Eleven years? That's a long time," said Hermione.

The adults all nodded.

**"I know that," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours." She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore here, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on. "A fine thing it would be if, on the very day You-Know-Who seems to have disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?"**

"Never to return!" shouted Umbridge. No one listened apart from the Minister and Percy Weasley.

**"It certainly seems so," said Dumbledore. "We have much to be thankful for. Would you care for a lemon drop?" **

"A what?"

**"A what?"  
"A lemon drop. They're a kind of Muggle sweet I'm rather fond of."  
"No, thank you," said Professor McGonagall coldly, as though she didn't think this was the moment for lemon drops. **

"It's always the time for lemon drops," said Dumbledore.

**"As I say, even if You-Know-Who has gone –"  
"My dear Professor, surely a sensible person like yourself can call him by his name? All this 'You-Know-Who' nonsense – for eleven years I have been trying to persuade people to call him by his proper name: Voldemort."**

Cue flinches from everyone but Dumbledore and Harry.

**Professor McGonagall flinched, but Dumbledore, who was unsticking two lemon drops, seemed not to notice. "It all gets so confusing if we keep saying 'You-Know-Who.' I have never seen any reason to be frightened of saying Voldemort's name."  
"I know you haven't," said Professor McGonagall, sounding half exasperated, half admiring. "But you're different. Everyone knows you're the only one You-Know-oh, all right, Voldemort,**

Flinches.

**was frightened of."  
"You flatter me," said Dumbledore calmly. "Voldemort had powers I will never have."  
"Only because you're too - well - noble to use them."  
"It's lucky it's dark. I haven't blushed so much since Madam Pomfrey told me she liked my new earmuffs."**

Everyone laughed.

**Professor McGonagall shot a sharp look at Dumbledore and said, "The owls are nothing next to the rumours that are flying around. You know what everyone's saying? About why he's disappeared? About what finally stopped him?" It seemed that Professor McGonagall had reached the point she was most anxious to discuss, the real reason she had been waiting on a cold, hard wall all day, for neither as a cat nor as a woman had she fixed Dumbledore with such a piercing stare as she did now. It was plain that whatever 'everyone' was saying, she was not going to believe it until Dumbledore told her it was true. Dumbledore, however, was choosing another lemon drop and did not answer. "What they're saying," she pressed on, "is that last night Voldemort turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are – are – that they're – dead." **

Harry and the teachers bowed their heads. Remus grasped Harry's shoulder and the dog let out a whine. The rest of the hall, except his close friends who knew he wouldn't appreciate it, sent Harry pitying glances that he pointedly ignored.

**Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped. "Lily and James... I can't believe it... I didn't want to believe it... Oh, Albus..." Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. "I know... I know..." he said heavily. Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. "That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the Potter's son, Harry. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill that little boy. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Harry Potter, Voldemort's power somehow broke – and that's why he's gone."**

A few Muggleborns who hadn't known the full story looked at Harry in awe. He ignored these looks too.

**Dumbledore nodded glumly. "It's – it's true?" faltered Professor McGonagall. "After all he's done... All the people he's killed... He couldn't kill a little boy? It's just astounding... Of all the things to stop him... But how in the name of heaven did Harry survive?"  
"We can only guess," said Dumbledore. "We may never know."**

"Which means he knows but doesn't want to say," said Harry while glaring at Dumbledore.

**Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense to Dumbledore, though,**

"Well of course it did! Why would you buy something if it didn't make any sense to you?" asked Ron.

"Some people like to figure things out for themselves, Ronald," Ginny responded.

**because he put it back in his pocket and said, "Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?"  
"Yes," said Professor McGonagall. "And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here, of all places?"  
"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."  
"You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?" cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. "Dumbledore - you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!" **

"At least someone is speaking sense," said Harry.

**"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter." **

"A letter? Honestly, Professor, a letter?" said Hermione.

**"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? **

"Hermione thinks like McGonagall!" shouted the twins.

**These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter day in the future **

Harry visibly shuddered. "Please say there is no such thing as Harry Potter day!" he pleaded.

Remus laughed and replied, "No. The paper work was lost in all the celebrations." He laughed even more at Harry's horrified look.

Snape looked at Harry. 'This can't be right,' he thought. 'Potter loves his fame. He's probably just acting. Yes, that's it. He's just looking for more attention.'

**- there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!"  
"Exactly," said Dumbledore, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. "It would be enough to turn any boy's head. Famous before he can walk and talk! Famous for something he won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off he'll be, growing up away from all that until he's ready to take it?" Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed, and then said, "Yes — yes, you're right, of course. But how is the boy getting here, Dumbledore?" She eyed his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding Harry underneath it.**

"You better not be," threatened Mrs. Weasley.

**"Hagrid's bringing him."  
"You think it —wise — to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"**

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Harry.

**"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.**

"Freaky," said the twins looking between Harry and Dumbledore.

**"I'm not saying his heart isn't in the right place," said Professor McGonagall grudgingly, "but you can't pretend he's not careless. He does tend to — **

"Sorry Hagrid," Professor McGonagall apologised. Hagrid just waved his hand as if to say it's okay.

**what was that?"**

"What was what?" asked Colin, excitedly.

**A low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight; it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky — and a huge motorcycle fell out of the air and landed on the road in front  
of them.**

"Awesome!" shouted a couple of students. The dog barked happily.

**If the motorcycle was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed, and so wild — long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he had hands the size of trash can lids, and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.**

"That almost makes him sound scary," said Hermione.

**"Hagrid," said Dumbledore, sounding relieved. "At last. And where did you get that motorcycle?"  
"Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir," said the giant, climbing carefully off the motorcycle as he spoke. "Young Sirius Black lent it to me. **

Some of the students glared at the book while others gave Harry looks of pity. Harry ignored all these looks and petted Snuffles instead.

**I've got him, sir."  
"No problems, were there?"  
"No, sir — house was almost destroyed, but I got him out all right before the Muggles started swarmin' around. He fell asleep as we was flyin' over Bristol."**

"Aww," cooed all the girls. The twins too, but unlike the girls, the twins were teasing Harry.

**Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby boy, fast asleep. Under a tuft of jet-black hair over his forehead they could see a curiously shaped cut, like a bolt of lightning.  
"Is that where —?" whispered Professor McGonagall.  
"Yes," said Dumbledore. "He'll have that scar forever."  
"Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?"  
"Even if I could, I wouldn't.**

"Why not?" Harry whined like a little child with a pout on his face.

**Scars can come in handy. I have one myself above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground. **

"Do you really?" asked Fred. When Dumbledore nodded, George added, "Cool."

**Well — give him here, Hagrid — we'd better get this over with."  
Dumbledore took Harry in his arms and turned toward the Dursleys' house.  
"Could I — could I say good-bye to him, sir?" asked Hagrid. He bent his great, shaggy head over Harry and gave him what must have been a very scratchy, whiskery kiss. Then, suddenly, Hagrid let out a howl like a wounded dog.**

Snuffles let out an indignant huff at this.

**"Shhh!" hissed Professor McGonagall, "You'll wake the Muggles!"  
"S-s-sorry," sobbed Hagrid, taking out a large, spotted handkerchief and burying his face in it. "But I c-c-can't stand it —Lily an' James dead — an' poor little Harry off ter live with Muggles —"  
"Yes, yes, it's all very sad, but get a grip on yourself, Hagrid, or we'll be found," Professor McGonagall whispered, patting Hagrid gingerly on the arm as Dumbledore stepped over the low garden wall and walked to the front door. He laid Harry gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside Harry's blankets, and then came back to the other two. **

"You left him on the doorstep?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a deadly whisper. She, along with the rest of the Weasleys (except Percy), Hermione Remus, Tonks and the dog, looked murderous.

Mrs. Weasley swelled up and looked as though she was going to start shouting at any moment when Harry stopped her. "It's okay Mrs. Weasley. I'm fine aren't I?"

"That doesn't make it alright," Mrs. Weasley huffed. "But I'll let it go for now."

**_If he had looked closer he would have noticed a golden chain around his neck that had two small charms on it. One that looked like a guitar and one that looked like a piano. _**

"Do you still have it?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry just nodded and put his hand up to his throat, fiddling with the chain that was there. The golden chain that no one had ever seen before even though he wore it everywhere.

**For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulders shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously, and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.**

"No! Not the twinkling light!" screamed the twins.

**"Well," said Dumbledore finally, "that's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations."  
"Yeah," said Hagrid in a very muffled voice, "I best get this bike away. G'night, Professor McGonagall — Professor Dumbledore, sir."  
Wiping his streaming eyes on his jacket sleeve, Hagrid swung himself onto the motorcycle and kicked the engine into life; with a roar it rose into the air and off into the night.  
"I shall see you soon, I expect, Professor McGonagall," said Dumbledore, nodding to her. Professor McGonagall blew her nose in reply.**

"Well that's just rude," said the twins.

**Dumbledore turned and walked back down the street. On the corner he stopped and took out the silver Put-Outer. He clicked it once, and twelve balls of light sped back to their street lamps so that Privet Drive glowed suddenly orange and he could make out a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street. He could just see the bundle of blankets on the step of number four.  
"Good luck, Harry," he murmured. **

"I needed more than luck," muttered Harry.

**He turned on his heel and with a swish of his cloak, he was gone.  
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, **

"Aww," cooed the girls and the twins again.

**not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley… He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter — the boy who lived!"**

"That's that chapter done," said Umbridge. "Who would like to read next?"

"I would," said Professor McGonagall.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER TWO  
The Vanishing Glass  
Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. **

"That's just boring," said Neville.

**The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls. Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-coloured bonnets — but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, **

Everyone laughed.

**and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother. The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too.**

"Why? Have you left?" asked Dennis.

Harry shook his head.

**Yet Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but not for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that made the first noise of the day.  
"Up! Get up! Now!"**

"What a pleasant way to be woken up," Hermione said.

**Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.  
"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking toward the kitchen and then the sound of the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled onto his back and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a good one. There had been a flying motorcycle in it. He had a funny feeling he'd had the same dream before.**

"You remembered that?" Ginny asked shocked.

"Yeah," shrugged Harry.

**His aunt was back outside the door.  
"Are you up yet?" she demanded.  
"Nearly," said Harry.  
"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."**

"Wait. Did you say they make him cook?" Ginny asked McGonagall.

"Yes, I did," said an obviously angry McGonagall. "How could they? How _dare _they?"

The rest of the teachers and the Weasleys as well as Hermione, Remus and the dog looked murderous. Well, if a dog could look murderous.

Harry groaned. "Just leave it, please," he pleaded. "It's in the past. Just forget about it."

"We are having a talk later," Remus muttered into his ear. "Snuffles will be joining us too."

Harry groaned again.

**Harry groaned.  
"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.  
"Nothing, nothing…"  
Dudley's birthday — how could he have forgotten?**

"Easy. I was trying to forget," Harry explained.

**Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, **

Ron shuddered.

**put them on. Harry was used to spiders, **

Ron shuddered again thinking, 'How can you be used to spiders?'

**because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, **

Harry put his head on the table. He knew what was coming.

**and that was where he slept.**

Silence. Complete and utter silence.

And then all hell broke loose.

"How _DARE _they!?" shouted many.

"A _cupboard_!"

'Precious Potter slept in a cupboard?' thought Draco Malfoy. 'This.. This can't be true. He should've been pampered with dozens of servants waiting to do whatever he pleased.'

'_Maybe he isn't what you think,' _said a small voice in his head.

Across the hall at the teacher's table, similar thoughts were racing through Professor Snape's head.

'Oh, Lily,' thought Snape. 'How could I have failed you this badly. How did I not see it when I myself been through what he must have been through?'

'_Because you were blinded by hatred,' _replied the voice who seemed to be all over the Hall, speaking different words in each person's ear, making them revaluate their attitudes and making them consider just how lucky they were.

The worst part was that the cupboard wasn't even the worst part of Harry's childhood. If anything, it was his favourite thing as a child because it was the only thing that was his, the only place he could go to get away from his relatives since none would dare enter his cupboard.

All the people around Harry turned to look at him.

"Please say the book is lying," Remus almost pleaded.

"It's not," Harry whispered. "Please, can we just keep reading?"

Meanwhile, up at the staff table, a furious McGonagall was tearing into Dumbledore.

"You said he was safe! You said they would look after him! YOU SAID THAT IT WAS THE BEST PLACE FOR HIM!" she shouted, getting louder with each sentence. The students watched in shock as the stern professor's voice broke and her eyes started watering.

"I-I-I thought it was," the great and powerful Albus Dumbledore cowered under the glare that McGonagall was giving him.

"Just continue Professor, please," she heard from the Gryffindor table.

Seeing the look on her lion's face, a look of pleading, she continued reading after giving the Headmaster one last glare.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew that this wasn't the last he would hear of his cupboard.

**When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen. The table ****was almost hidden beneath all Dudley's birthday presents. It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. **

"What are those?" asked the same Ravenclaw as earlier.

"Write it down," said Ron before Hermione had a chance to answer.

**Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise — unless of course it involved punching somebody. **

Everyone growled, knowing who the book was referring to but each hoping they were wrong.

**Dudley's favourite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast.  
Perhaps it had something to do with**** living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. **

"I remember James being a scrawny git too but even he wasn't as small as you," Remus commented.

"Gee, thanks," Harry answered.

"Make sure you give him a full physical," McGonagall whispered to Madame Pomfrey, who nodded.

**He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. **

Professor Sprout muttered something that sounded like, "Couldn't even get him some decent clothes."

**Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair, and bright green eyes. He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. **

Insert growls and glares.

**The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. **

"You liked your scar?" Ron questioned. He couldn't believe his friend that hated his scar almost as much as Wormtail would ever like it.

"Yeah," Harry answered with a faraway look on his face. "It was unique. It was the only thing I had that connected me to my parents in anyway. It was something that Dudley couldn't take away from me. To me, it was the only special thing about me."

Many people felt dejected and helpless at the end of his mini speech.

**He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.  
"In the car crash when your parents died," she had said. **

"WHAT?" shouted most of the people in the hall.

"How could she," Hermione sobbed. "Her own nephew, her own _sister_."

"**And don't ask questions."  
Don't ask questions — that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.**

Harry snorted. "Hardly, it was impossible to have a quiet life in that house."

Meanwhile, many of the professors were remembering times in class when Harry would clearly be struggling but would never ask for help, would never ask the teacher to explain it again some other way.

'How did we miss this?' was a very common thought in the professors brains.

**Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.  
"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting.**

"What a nice way to be greeted, Forge," said Gred.

"Oh yes. We should greet everyone like that, Gred," replied Forge.

They then turned to each other and barked, "Comb your hair!" at the same time.

**About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and shouted that Harry needed a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way — all over the place.**

"Now, who does that remind me of?" said Remus, humorously. Snuffles barked in laughter.

**Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. **

"Oh I wish I was as handsome as him, don't you, Gred," asked Forge, dreamily.

Gred shuddered. "No, that is just too far. I think I'm going to be sick actually."

**Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel — Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig.**

The hall roared with laughter.

"Nice one, Harry," said Ron, through his laughter.

"I do try," replied Harry.

**Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. His face fell.  
"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father. "That's two less than last year."**

"What a spoiled brat," called a few people.

"**Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mummy and Daddy."**

"What is he, five?" asked Daphne Greengrass.

"He might as well be," answered Harry.

"**All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.**

"Smart move, Harry," commented Ron seriously. "Never waste food."

His friends merely rolled their eyes at him.

**Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right"  
Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty… thirty…"**

"Oh Merlin! Just how stupid is he?" questioned an incredulous Hermione.

"Very," was Harry's only answer.

"**Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.  
"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."  
Uncle Vernon chuckled.  
"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair.**

"Why am I not surprised that he's encouraging his son's behaviour?" asked a Hufflepuff third year.

**At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR.**

The hall was filled with the sounds of quills flying across parchment as the curious purebloods and half-bloods wrote down the items mentioned above.

**He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.  
"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.**

'He is a human being not some type of rotten animal,' thought Hermione with disgust.

**Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. **

"Harry!" Hermione scolded. Harry simply looked sheepish.

**The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.  
"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. **

"Oh no! She's figured out my plan to ruin her life by making old ladies break their legs! Whatever will I do now?" said Harry sarcastically.

**Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.**

Hermione scolded Harry again and this time he looked properly apologetic. That is until Hermione turned away again. It wasn't his fault he hated those pictures.

"**We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.  
"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."**

"What? My most favouritest aunt in the whole wide world doesn't like me?" shouted Harry in fake horror.

**The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there — or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.**

"Umm, you do look particularly sluggish today, Harry," Fred informed.

"**What about what's-her-name, your friend — Yvonne?"  
"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.  
"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be able to watch what he wanted on television for a change and maybe even have a go on Dudley's computer). **_**Harry**_**'s **_**hand wrapped around the necklace he always wore. Or he could finish that song he was working on.**_**  
Aunt Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.  
"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.  
"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.**

"You might not blow up the house, but that doesn't mean you won't blow up your aunt," laughed Ron.

"**I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave him in the car…"**

Ron and Harry carefully edged away from Hermione as she started mumbling furiously to herself, her hair standing on end making her look even more terrifying. If they listened closely enough they were able to make out a few phrases such as 'not a dog', 'Bat Bogey hex' and 'oh, when I get my hands on them'.

"**That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone…"  
Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying — it had been years since he'd really cried — but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.**

"I bet the ferret still does that," muttered Ron.

"**Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.  
"I… don't… want… him… t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.**

"What a horrible child," cried a 6th year female Hufflepuff.

**Just then, the doorbell rang — "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically — and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. **

"I hate rats," Ron spat venomously, causing everyone who had known about Scabbers to look at him funnily.

**He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once.  
Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life. **

Around the hall, dozens of people were remembering all the places they had been which they had taken for granted, the places they had protested going to because they 'didn't want to' or 'weren't bothered' and realised how selfish it was of them.

**His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him, but before they'd left, Uncle Vernon had taken Harry aside.  
"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy — any funny business, anything at all — and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."  
"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "honestly…"  
But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him. No one ever did.**

Seamus stared down at the table, remembering the fights with Harry over the past few months. He wasn't the only one. People all over the hall were feeling bad about accusing Harry of being a liar and not believing him. But it wasn't enough to change their belief that Voldemort wasn't alive again.

**The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen.  
Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar." Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off. He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.**

Tonks was pensive. Could Harry possibly have inherited some minor metamorphagus ability from his grandmother, Dorea Black? It was unlikely he would be able to change his feature to that of an animal like Tonks could, but with training he may one day be able to change the length and colour of his hair and maybe the colour of his eyes. Making a note to speak with Harry when they took a break, Tonks turned her attention back to the book.

**Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's (brown with orange puff balls).**

The more fashion focused in the hall shuddered in disgust.

**The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.**

'It shouldn't be a _relief _that he wasn't punished!' thought Professor McGonagall. 'He shouldn't even have to fear getting punished like he did.'

**On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. **

Many looked shocked and impressed. "What age were you then, Potter?" asked a Gryffindor who's name Harry didn't know.

"I think I was about six or seven?" questioned Harry as if the Gryffindor knew the answer.

'Hmm, maybe I've underestimated Potter. If he could apparate or fly or whatever he did at that age maybe he isn't a complete dunderhead,' Snape considered, his mind casting back to all the times Lily would jump off the swing and float in mid air.

**The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do (as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard) was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.**

Giggles flittered through the hall, some people simply looking at Harry in disbelief.

"Oh come on! I was like six!" Harry whined.

**But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.  
While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favourite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.**

"Wow, your uncle must love you, Harry!"

"Yeah, he never stops talking about you."

"Well, he is pretty handsome."

"Maybe your uncle has a crush on you, Harry!" The twins joked. Harry looked faintly green.

"… **roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.  
"I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."  
Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a moustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"**

"Well my godfather's does! So there you're just a big, fat, ugly, stupid worm!" Harry retorted before crossing his arms across his chest and pouting like a five year old who was refused candy.

Some people looked at him questioning his sanity but Harry was to busy sulking to notice.

**Dudley and Piers sniggered.  
"I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."  
But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a dream or even a cartoon — they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.**

"Wait, what were they called? Cartoons?" piped up Fred.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking George?" asked George.

"I do believe I am, Freddy boy," Fred replied before they both turned to Hermione.

"Where can we find some of these cartoons?"

**It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought  
Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.**

"Hey, Hermione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Do you think that gorilla would still be there?"

"I don't know, why?"

"I need to go apologise to him," said Harry, deadly serious.

**Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favourite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.**

"I don't know if I should be disgusted that that pig is such a ... well such a pig or happy that Harry was given the first one instead of them just throwing it out," thought Lavender out loud.

**Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.  
After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon**

"WOW! That's impressive!"

'**s car**

"Oh. Well that isn't as impressive."

**and crushed it into a trash can — but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.  
Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.  
"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.  
"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.  
"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.  
Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself — no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.**

"Poor snake," Harry sympathised. The people sitting around him didn't know whether to feel pity for Harry or whether they should admit him to St Mungo's for comparing himself to a snake in a zoo.

**The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's.  
It winked.  
Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too.  
The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling. It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly:  
"I get that all the time."**

"Like this!" shouted Fred, turning to give Harry a very strange look that did not deliver the intended message.

"**I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."  
The snake nodded vigorously.  
"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked.  
The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.  
Boa Constrictor, Brazil.  
"Was it nice there?"  
The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see — **_**that's me as well. I never knew my parents either. **_

Harry ducked behind Snuffles to avoid the looks of pity he was receiving.

**So you've never been to Brazil?"  
As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump. "DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"  
Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.  
"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs. **

Angry shouts and threats resounded throughout the hall.

**Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened — one second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next, they had leapt back with howls of horror.  
Harry sat up and gasped; the glass front of the boa constrictor's tank had vanished. **

"So you could make a glass window vanish when you were ten, but you can't make a simple quill vanish now?" asked Professor Flitwick in a rare fit of exasperation.

Again, Harry simply smiled sheepishly.

**The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out onto the floor. People throughout the reptile house screamed and started running for the exits.  
As the snake slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn a low, hissing voice said, "Brazil, here I come… Thanksss, amigo." **_**"Anytime," replied Harry, figuring it was only the polite thing to do.  
**_**The keeper of the reptile house was in shock.  
"But the glass," he kept saying, "where did the glass go?"**

"It vanished!" whispered the twins mysteriously.

**The zoo director himself made Aunt Petunia a cup of strong, sweet tea while he apologized over and over again. Piers and Dudley could only gibber. As far as Harry had seen, the snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed, but by the time they were all back in Uncle Vernon's car, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to death. But worst of all, for Harry at least, was Piers calming down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you, Harry?"**

"Idiot!" shouted half the hall.

**Uncle Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry. He was so angry he could hardly speak. He managed to say, "Go — cupboard — stay — no meals," before he collapsed into a chair, and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.**

"No meals?" whispered Madame Pomphrey. "Mister Potter, did this happen often?"

"Umm, yeah, I guess so," Harry meekly replied.

'No wonder he's so small' was a common thought throughout the hall.

**Harry lay in his dark cupboard much later, wishing he had a watch. He didn't know what time it was and he couldn't be sure the Dursleys were asleep yet. Until they were, he couldn't risk sneaking to the kitchen for some food.**

'So that's how he never gets caught. He's had years of practise," thought Snape ruefully.

**He'd lived with the Dursleys almost ten years, ten miserable years, as long as he could remember, ever since he'd been a baby and his parents had died in that car crash. He couldn't remember being in the car when his parents had died. Sometimes, when he strained his memory during long hours in his cupboard, he came up with a strange vision: a blinding flash of green light and a burning pain on his forehead. **

It seemed like everyone in the hall was trained to gasp in unison, as if someone was directing them. Harry groaned as, for what seemed like the millionth time, everyone turned to look at him with pity again. If it wasn't him they were looking at, Harry would probably be amused, as just like when they had all gasped, they all turned in unison too.

**This, he supposed, was the crash, though he couldn't imagine where all the green light came from. He couldn't remember his parents at all. His aunt and uncle never spoke about them, and of course he was forbidden to ask questions. There were no photographs of them in the house.**

"Wait, so you didn't even know what they looked like?" questioned Pavati horrified.

"I first saw a picture of them at Christmas during first year," replied Harry, his eyes shining as he thought of the Mirror of Erised.

**When he had been younger, Harry had dreamed and dreamed of some unknown relation coming to take him away, but it had never happened; the Dursleys were his only family. **

"That's not true," corrected Harry, smiling at the Weasleys, Remus, Tonks and Snuffles.

**Yet sometimes he thought (or maybe hoped) that strangers in the street seemed to know him. Very strange strangers they were, too. A tiny man in a violet top hat had bowed to him once while out shopping with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. After asking Harry furiously if he knew the man, Aunt Petunia had rushed them out of the shop without buying anything. A wild-looking old woman dressed all in green had waved merrily at him once on a bus. A bald man in a very long purple coat had actually shaken his hand in the street the other day and then walked away without a word. The weirdest thing about all these people was the way they seemed to vanish the second Harry tried to get a closer look.  
At school, Harry had no one. Everybody knew that Dudley's gang hated that odd Harry Potter in his baggy old clothes and broken glasses, and nobody liked to disagree with Dudley's gang.**

Harry was getting seriously annoyed now, as AGAIN the hall's occupants turned to look at him with pity. His friends were stifling their laughter but couldn't hold it in when Harry turned their glare on them.

Harry simply sat their looking like a kicked puppy.

_**Later that night while everyone was asleep, Harry took his golden necklace off. Even after all these years, he still had it. Simply by willing it to grow, the small charm that looked like a piano resized itself to a full sized real piano. Harry had found out that it never grew too big so it could fit in his small cupboard. The same could happen with the guitar charm.**_

_**He started to play the first couple of notes of the song he had sung every night before he went to bed. He had been glad to discover that the Dursleys couldn't hear the noise so he could play whenever he wanted.**_

_**The song was one he had heard in his dreams for as long as he could remember. Along with the song was a very blurrily image of a person.**_

"It can't be," Remus whispered to himself so quiet that no one heard him.

_**Harry thought it was a woman but he couldn't be sure because all he could make out was dark red hair and bright green eyes very similar to his own. **_

"It is," said Remus a bit louder, but still quiet enough that only the people right next to him heard him.

_**He thought the woman might be his mother but he could never be certain. **_

Remus turned to Harry and said, "It was. She would always sing you a song before bed called-"

"-'Goodnight, My Angel'?" asked Harry.

Remus simply nodded with a sad smile.

_**He remembered her voice though. She had a soft melodious voice and was an amazing guitar player but she never seemed to be playing in his dreams. Instead, a piano would be playing in the background accompanied by the woman's voice. He remembered being sung the song every time he went to bed.**_

_**Eventually after hearing it for months in his sleep and finding out about the charm on his necklace, Harry had been able to figure out the notes for the song on the small piano. Ever since he would sing it to himself before he went to sleep.**_

"Would you sing it for us?" asked a timid first year.

Harry just blinked at him, shocked at the question. Soon people began to voice their agreement and pleaded with him to sing for them.

Eventually, Harry agreed after much persuasion. And I mean MUCH persuasion. Dumbledore motioned for him to come up to the front as McGonagall conjured a stool for him to sit on.

Taking off his necklace, Harry enlarged his piano, which was quite bigger than it usually was since he wasn't in a small cupboard anymore, and began to play the notes of the song, 'Goodnight, My Angel'.

_Goodnight, my angel  
Time to close your eyes  
And save these questions for another day  
I think I know what you've been asking me  
I think you know what I've been trying to say  
I promised I would never leave you  
And you should always know  
Wherever you may go  
No matter where you are  
I never will be far away_

_Goodnight, my angel  
Now it's time to sleep  
And still so many things I want to say  
Remember all the songs you sang for me  
When we went sailing on an emerald bay  
And like a boat out on the ocean  
I'm rocking you to sleep  
The water's dark  
And deep inside this ancient heart  
You'll always be a part of me_

_Goodnight, my angel  
Now it's time to dream  
And dream how wonderful your life will be  
Someday your child may cry  
And if you sing this lullaby  
Then in your heart  
There will always be a part of me_

_Someday we'll all be gone  
But lullabies go on and on...  
They never die  
That's how you  
And I  
Will be_

Once he was done the entire Great Hall apart from some Slytherins, Umbridge, Fudge and Snape, burst into applause. Anyone standing outside of the Hall would have thought that an explosion had just taken place with the amount of noise.

Harry smiled, a little embarrassed and retook his seat. Once there, Ron and Remus patted his back and Hermione hugged him while wiping tears off her face.

"Shall we continue?" asked Dumbledore.

"I will read next, if that is alright with you?" asked Professor Flitwick.

Dumbledore nodded so Professor McGonagall handed the book to him.


End file.
